


What if you were a sacrifice and I kidnapped you and we were both boys, haha...unless?

by ShowrunnerIHardlyKnowHer



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Definitely one-sided lmao, Fear Play, Fearplay, G/T, Giant/Tiny, Giants, Grooming, Hybrids, I said no relationships but I guess it could be interpreted either way, Macro/Micro, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Vore, Micro, One Shot, Original Character(s), Original Male Characters - Freeform, Sacrifice, Specifically of the dragon variation, TINY - Freeform, Very Mild Gore, and it's gonna STAY a one shot!!, macro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:07:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27108463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShowrunnerIHardlyKnowHer/pseuds/ShowrunnerIHardlyKnowHer
Summary: Things could be a lot worse. The altar he was tied to could be on fire, the cloth blindfold could have been razor wires, the monster coming for him could have actually wanted to eat him.You know, the usual.
Relationships: None
Comments: 17
Kudos: 112





	What if you were a sacrifice and I kidnapped you and we were both boys, haha...unless?

**Author's Note:**

> Wow look it's me back on my bullshit with G/t fearplay and monsterboys
> 
> ANYWAYS, my excuses for such a long absence include working full time, finishing my last college semester, and constantly getting sick over the weekends. So we may all have a little fearplay oneshot for the time being. As a treat.
> 
> Also hit me up to yell about G/t garbage on Discord @Michael Cera's Stunt Double#3243 or on Tumblr @mutilatedmadonna (it's a horror/gore blog with 0 G/t content but I'm always on it lmao)

The chafing around his wrists should be the least of his worries, but for now the irritating sting of tightly wound rope was the only thing Thomas could focus on other than the situation at hand. Not that this discomfort would last much longer.

How long had he been tied to the stone pillar? The ache that was creeping into a burn in his arms felt like it had been days, but the soft glow of daylight that barely seeped through his blindfold insisted it had only been a few hours, half a day at most. For the hundredth time he tried to rotate his hands in the hopes of loosening his bonds just a fraction. Maybe if repeated a hundred _more_ times, the rope would slack enough for him to wiggle free and make a grand escape, but he only succeeded in rubbing his skin raw. Pretty soon he will have peeled an entire layer of flesh away and perhaps with his luck the scent of fresh blood would draw the beast to him and end this dreadful anticipation.

Thomas didn’t even know what sort of beast he was supposed to be waiting for in the first place; nobody in the village did. There were plenty of theories as to what the culprit, or culprits as some believed, _could_ be, but it was difficult to point the finger at one definite species. It was destructive like a camazotz, tearing up land and homes as easily as one rids a garden of weeds, yet it was hard to tell if the mangled remains (well, what little was salvaged of them) were a result of a appetite on par with a minotaur or if it was merely as hostile towards humans as a basilisk. The most agreed upon opinion of the village was that whatever had deemed them an acceptable hunting ground had to be massive, especially to cause such huge amounts of damage in only a few days' time. But if it was truly so colossal then how did it continue to remain undetected, carrying out silent slaughters night after night?

These were thoughts Thomas did his best not to dwell on lest his dark musings somehow conjure the creature. Apparently, it didn’t matter what he thought about - he was destined to come face to face with the attacker regardless. It certainly didn’t matter to the council and meager audience when he begged to be released. The blindfold was a small mercy, the last act of kindness that he would ever be shown - he wouldn’t have to see the terrifying features of his impending death. His remaining senses only seemed to heighten however, picking up every tiny sound and smell which may turn out to be the monster coming to end his miserable existence, provided his racing heart didn’t cause him to keel over first.

As much as he tried not to, he couldn’t help but wonder what would happen to him if, by some miracle, the creature never came to claim him? Would a small group return to the sacrificial altar to see if the offering had worked, and if he were still bound to it, would they release him and find another civilian to take his place? Or would he still be executed as punishment for not being an appealing enough victim? Maybe they’d just leave him there until either the creature showed up or the elements slowly collected his deteriorating body? Of course, these hypotheticals were all based on the foolish notion that Thomas might survive the beast.

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud impact in front of him, a small distance from the cliff’s edge that overlooked the dense forest below. Okay, yeah, it was definitely big, if it was to be assumed it was still perfectly capable of seeing and reaching Thomas despite being on a raised ledge. Footsteps made their way closer, each step causing minute tremors that immediately sent an icy shock up his spine, his body continually tensing until he was standing ramrod straight. It was a little strange how something could materialize and land so loudly, yet its footsteps were almost whisper quiet. Was there a sort of gigantic beast that was naturally light on its feet or was it trying to be subtle?

Uncomfortable silence hung in the air briefly. The monster was presumably right in front of him: he could hear something rustle before it was drowned out by the sound of crinkling grass being crushed under a weight that settled on the high ground Thomas was trapped on. He couldn’t tell if the creature had pulled itself up to settle on the cliff with him, or if it was a tail or muzzle or tendril idly resting. His breathing was already becoming shallow and uneven, tears clumping his lashes only to be absorbed by the blindfold before they could fall. The anticipation was a far crueler torture than anything this creature could inflict.

Something gently swiped across his bangs, stroking the hair to the side as if to see his face more clearly, not that it made much difference with the blindfold in the way. 

“Well, aren’t _you_ a cute little thing.” Someone crooned above him.

The sudden touch and booming voice made Thomas violently jerk his body as best he could away from the sensations, crying out in pure terror which soon turned into heaving breaths, desperately hoping they wouldn’t turn into sobs.

“My apologies, I didn’t realize you were related to a banshee.” The being huffed, shifting around again, “Dare I even ask what you are officially called, or is my hearing still at risk?”

Thomas didn’t answer and at this point he wasn’t even sure that he’d be able to with the way his throat threatened to close up if he made anything more than a whimper. Gods above, why did it have to talk? Why couldn’t it have been some mindless beast that would have torn him to shreds in seconds instead of toying with its prey? The touch returned to rub at his cheek, the warmth heating his face while the monster tutted in disapproval.

“Now, now, my tiny tribute, you’re blindfolded, not gagged. A conversation typically requires at least two participants.” The soft touch started to slide down his neck to his chest before pulling away, “Or perhaps I should find some other way for you to occupy my time?”

There was more movement, like it was coming closer, and Thomas put all his strength into squirming as if that would somehow get him anywhere that wasn’t here.

“No, no, don’t, please, s-stop!” He cried, and surprisingly it seemed to do so.

“Stop what?” it asked, “You aren’t even able to see what I’m doing.”

Thomas was pretty sure he didn’t _want_ to see what it was doing, but still wanted it to stop doing...whatever it was. His trembling only increased tenfold as he remained silent, save for a few shuddering breaths, terrified of the lingering threat that if he didn’t pipe up then it would find other, more violent means to entertain itself, but what could he say? He didn’t want to talk, he didn’t want to be taunted, he just wanted it to be over already.

The creature hummed, “I’m not fae kin if that’s what worries you. I just thought you would appreciate being called something other than my clever nicknames.” Still receiving no reply, the voice became a touch softer, moving from being above him to dead ahead, “My name is Greyson, if that helps.”

It didn’t, but Thomas could almost appreciate the effort it seemed like it was trying to make. He swallowed thickly, willing his dry throat to relax and allow him to speak before the monster became impatient. It was being awfully generous with the amount of chances it was giving him to answer its simple question. And he really, really didn’t want to find out what its limit was. Breathing in shakily, it took him a few pitiful tries to find his voice under the squeaks and whimpers that desperately wanted to come out instead.

“...Th-Thomas…”

“Oh,” it said, sounding like it was taken aback, “now I see why you were so hesitant to share it, but really it isn’t too terrible for a human.”

Okay, wow, Thomas would be lying if he said he didn’t feel a spark of indigence at the backwards compliment. Here he was being offered up as a free meal and the creature really had the nerve to criticize his name? What did it care, it wasn’t like he’d be needing it after his innards were spilled by its claws and teeth! He pulled at the ropes again with fool’s hope that they had miraculously loosened during this embarrassing conversation with still no luck. He needed to get out, get away, its game was certainly coming to an end and Thomas couldn’t bear the ache anymore.

“L-let me go!” he pleaded, twisting his wrists more fervently, “Please!”

“I’m not holding you.”

God _damnit_ , why did it have to be such a smartass!?

“I intended to cut your bonds earlier,” it continued, “but then you barked at me to stop. _So…_ ”

He could feel it inch closer, warm air caressing his body in steady puffs which only turned his blood to ice. Thomas was already envisioning its mouth filled with jagged teeth looming over him, drooling in anticipation despite feeling no actual wetness.

But that didn’t make it any better when it cooed, “Do you _want_ me to cut your bonds now, honey?”

The shiver that racked his body was surely visible to the beast even when Thomas tried to jerk away. Of course he wanted to be freed, but what was the point? He could run maybe three feet before it would undoubtedly catch him. Maybe the chase was half the fun and it wanted him to sprint for his short life before snacking on him. Maybe it was trying to trick him and would sever his arms instead of the rope, let him bleed out in agony. Maybe if he agreed it would then mean he owed something to the creature in return, a price he knew he wasn’t willing to pay.

“Come now, it’s a yes or no question. No need to think so hard about the options.” it said, the lilt in its voice sounding more amused at his anxiety than annoyed. A small mercy.

“I-I…” Thomas felt his throat threatening to close up again, this time in an effort to hold back a terrified sob though his eyes still welled up, “I want to go home! P-please, just l-let me go _home!”_

The creature's voice drew back, no longer crowding his space. “Really? You actually want to return to your village?” it asked, “If I had been tied up and left for a presumably ravenous beast I can’t say I would be too homesick.”

He couldn’t help but freeze at the specification of the theoretical monsters appetite, “A-are, are you going t-to…?”

“Devour you? I wasn’t planning to originally but I’m always open to new ideas,” it considered.

Oh gods, did Thomas even want to imagine what its original plan was? Scratch that, did he just suggest the alternative of _eating him!?_ His chest constricted along with the knot in his stomach, his panting rapidly approaching hyperventilation with each ragged exhale. The creature made a soft noise in the back of its throat and Thomas felt the familiar touch of a warm finger rubbing his cheek.

“Aw, no, sweetheart, I was _teasing_ , I promise.” the creature said, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Thomas didn’t believe that for a single fucking second. He seriously doubted it planned to hang around and talk with him until sunrise like he wasn’t being sacrificed to it to fulfil its whims. Then again, it might have planned some sort of sadistic game to keep him on edge for as long as possible, or to win his trust so the betrayal would taste even sweeter. The distrust had to be rolling off him in waves because the beast chuckled and trailed its finger higher, the blunt point of a nail ghosting up his arm and--

\--the rope snapped.

He barely even registered what exactly happened as his arms dropped down to his side like they weighed fifty pounds each, only really noticing the aches and tingles that shot from his fingertips to his biceps. It...it cut the rope that had been tethering him here, just as it said it would, and from the feel of things, it hadn’t even nicked Thomas in the process. The idea that its claws were sharp enough to slice through layers of rope was unnerving, but the idea that he was completely _free_ was the main thought on his mind. So, naturally, Thomas bolted.

Common sense probably would have told him to _take the blindfold off first dumbass_ , but the adrenaline that pumped his legs decided that he could see where he was running _after_ he cleared enough distance from the creature. He could have sprinted five feet or a quarter mile for all he knew, whatever length clearly nowhere near enough to make a difference when something heavy slammed in front of him. Thomas nearly winded himself on impact, gripping onto something soft and smooth to keep his balance while the monster tutted in disapproval.

“Ah, ah, ah It’s rather rude to run out on someone without even saying thank you, honey,” it said, pulling the appendage that had cut him off, and consequently Thomas, closer to it. “If I were fae you would be in serious trouble, you know.”

“I don’t even know what you _are!_ ” Thomas yelled, adrenaline teetering on bravery as he pushed against the solid wall in front of him, something firm and warm covered in a thick material. Clothes? Was it an arm?

It hummed in mock thought, leaning down closer. “Maybe I’m a naga here to swallow your little village whole.” Something drummed against the ground. Fingers? “Or maybe I’m a drider that’s been distracting you while I spin my web.”

Thomas’s shaking increased tenfold when its mouth hovered inches away from his back, the knowledge that teeth the size of his head wasn’t even a bite away made his heart stutter.

“Or maybe...I’m a _drakanian_.”

Oh. It was just teasing him again. Snakes and spiders and dragons weren’t even remotely native this far north up the coastline. Alright, Thomas could play this game, as long as it meant the creature was too preoccupied with its fun to think about ending his miserable existence. He just needed to think of a plan, some sort of escape or a way to really get on its good side. Until then…

“Y...you’re not a naga…” he mumbled, unsure if he was entirely able to raise his voice without it wavering.

The mouth drew away from him once more, “I beg your pardon?”

Thomas’s confidence rose just a fraction at the confusion in the creature’s voice, “Y-you’re not a naga, I...I could hear you walking, s-so you don’t have a t-tail.”

There was a beat of silence before it snorted in amusement. “Clever little human. Tell me then, what do _you_ think I am?”

“Talkative.”

The word left his mouth before he could stop it, his entire body jolting in horror at the thought that he really had the audacity to insult the very being which (almost quite literally) held his life in its hands. He fucked up, he was going to die a profoundly agonizing death for his remark, he should have known better than to try and keep up with a predator’s humor. His breathing nearly stopped altogether as if anticipating what it will be like when all the air would be popped from his lungs.

And then...it _laughed_. A genuine, delighted laugh that made its body shake in mirth. It was a surprisingly pleasant sound, light and airy, not that it had a rough voice to begin with. Now it was Thomas’s turn to be confused by the other’s response as he tried to understand if this was another jab it was taking at him or if he wasn’t as entirely doomed as he thought. The other shoe could drop at any moment.

Its laugh tapered off and he swore its smile was beaming bright enough to see through the blindfold, “And it tells jokes, too! Such a talented little thing you are.” He felt something slide under the cloth around his eyes, feeling it tug the scrap away before Thomas could even protest, “Let’s see if your guesses were correct.”

He let out a yelp when he was momentarily blinded by light, screwing his eyes shut and turning his face away to avoid catching a glimpse of the creature. The last thing he wanted to do was see its horrid features, eyes watching him and teeth bared, his last sight of this world being its open maw lunging at him. Instinctively, he tried to back away again, only to wedge himself tighter against the limb surrounding him.

“Now really, what was the point of removing your blindfold if you only planned on keeping your eyes shut?” it chided, “I want to see if they’re adorable as the rest of you.”

Thomas vehemently shook his head, whimpering when his barrier moved again to drag him closer.

“ _Thooomaaas_ ,” it sang, his name on its tongue making him want to retch, “open your _eeeyes_ , or I’m going to do something you’re not going to _liiike_.”

He didn’t like any of this! He very much hated everything that has been occurring since sunrise! The fear of its identity outweighed the fear of its threat, though he was sure one was just as bad as the other. Shaking his head again, Thomas hid his face against the faux wall he was pressed into, hoping that if it didn’t have access to his eyes then its nefarious torture would be a little less awful. It was debatable whether he was right or not when the silence of his answer hung in the air and encouraged the creature to make good on its word, warm breath becoming hotter as its face crowded him once more. The even exhales were a stark contrast to his own unsteady panting, on the verge of choking him in a fit of sobs, especially when soft flesh pressed against his torso in the unmistakable impression of a closed smile, the only thing preventing him from falling victim to its fangs and gullet. Its lips moved and pressed a touch harder and Thomas’s heart leapt to his throat when he heard--

_chu!_

His eyes flew open just in time to see its grin pulling back, white teeth retreating to a much safer distance. It...did it just... _kiss_ him? Was it taunting him with a preview of things to come if he continued to disobey? Would the mouth be open next time it approached his body? The transfixion he had on its smile began to wane, allowing his mind to catch up with his vision and truly drink in the sight before him, including the face that smile was gracing. Obviously, it was huge. That was given even when Thomas was blindfolded, but it was so _human_ as well with pale skin and dark red hair, its - no, _his_ \- features were admittedly quite handsome and its body was broad and fit. Or what he could see of his body given the cliffside was about waist high to the giant.

 _That’s what it is then_ , he thought, _a giant_. And a rather regal one, at that. The way it was leaning over the edge above him gave Thomas a closer look at the intricate designs of his outfit, gold accents and precious gems swirled in stunning patterns on the black cuffs and chest of his surcoat, easily worth more than some kingdoms! One hand was bare, showing off neatly trimmed nails while the other beside him (attached to what was, indeed, an arm corralling him) wore a strange sort of metal glove that didn’t completely cover the flesh, its main feature a set of wicked sharp blades that served as substitute claws. Why would a nobleman giant need claws?

That’s when the details became glaringly obvious.

The canines peeking out of his smile were too long, his half lidded eyes were more red than brown, the dark coloring that blended into his hair wasn’t a head piece, and the red leather draped against his back wasn’t a cape. Fangs, horns, wings, normal giants didn’t have any of those. They didn’t play with their food, they didn’t typically receive living offerings, and they definitely didn’t have grandiose fashion tastes.

“Y...y-you’re…!” Thomas started to squeak out, his ability to speak draining as rapidly as the blood from his face.

Greyson’s smile broadened, showing off more of his pristine teeth in a coy display, “One of the most marvelous things you’ve ever had the pleasure to lay your eyes upon?”

Absolutely not what he was going to say, but, well, dragons _were_ known to be stunning regardless if they were purebred or half bloods.

“You’re a...a drakainian…” he whimpered.

The drakainian in question rolled his eyes, vexed that Thomas didn’t voice his awe at his evident beauty, his free arm moving to prop his cheek against his fist to stare down at the tiny captive.

“Hm, yes, I do believe that was one of the possibilities I mentioned before. You don’t listen to me very often, sweetheart. Also,” Thomas caught the sight of movement near the drakainian’s hip, matching red scales briefly flicking into view, “I _do_ have a tail, so you were only partially right.”

Thomas couldn’t respond, much less think or move in any way that wasn’t violent tremors racking his body. He wondered if the giant could feel just how hard he was shaking considering he was still snuggly crammed into the crook of his arm. Of all the creatures in the land, fate had to settle him with a literal _dragon prince_. Perhaps prince wasn’t the right term as their kind wasn’t exactly known to bow to the rules of monarchy, but their lifestyles and demeanor perfectly reflected the typical royal society. Or rather, what was known about their way of living imitated royalty, seeing as they were private creatures, never one to stir up trouble with other species unless provoked.

By that logic, what could Thomas’s village possibly have done to earn the drakainian’s ire that he regularly returned to destroy their homes? Even now, Greyson appeared anything but displeased, enjoying his unwilling company quite a bit. Not enough to be sympathetic and let him go, but since he had yet to be reduced to dragon food Thomas would take whatever mercies he could get.

He had to address the equally massive elephant in the room, the longer he stared at the apex predator the sooner he thought he’d faint. Or die. 

“A-are…” Thomas’s voice was pitifully small, he wondered if he could even hear him, “are you g-going to let m-me go…?”

There was a hopefulness underlying the question even as he cringed at himself for daring to ask such a thing out loud. Greyson tilted his head and gave him such an adoring look that he felt his heart flutter, thinking perhaps he had a chance to escape this torment after all.

“Aw, honey, why would I want to do _that?_ ” he cooed, “I would have thought by now it was common knowledge that dragons love to keep pretty little things for themselves. What made you think you were an exception?”

So much for that dream, though his flickering of optimism wasn’t wholly snuffed out by the mention of _keeping_ as opposed to _eating_. Thomas blinked away the wetness in his eyes, still cowering but no longer quivering as hard as before.

“Drakainians don’t...e-eat their sacrifices?” he asked skeptically, earning a shrug in response.

“Some might.” Greyson said, looking up in thought. “I wouldn’t put it past my siblings, quite honestly.”

Thomas didn’t even want to unpack the idea that there were more drakainians nested nearby, especially ones related to Greyson “Have... _you_ ever eaten a sacrifice?”

The silence that lingered did not bode well for him, with Greyson staring at him so intently, and neither did his eventual answer “I like talking with you, Thomas.”

“Y-you didn’t answer my question.”

Greyson sighed, letting his arm fall to fully cage the small man against him. “It wasn’t an answer you were going to like, so I failed to see the point in doing so.”

Nope. He didn’t like that one bit. Every time he thought he might be the tiniest bit safe with this monster he’d drop another bombshell to make it worse than before. Thomas conceded, his heart couldn’t keep up with the dragon prince’s game anymore - his escape was now or never. His hands gripped the sleeve behind him and hoisted himself up with the strength he never knew he possessed, scrambling over the giant limb while Greyson groaned in exasperation.

“Oh, this again?” he huffed, moving behind the human racing towards the treeline. He reached a hand out, delicately wrapping his fingers around Thomas' writhing frame. The human screamed again in despair and desperately tried to claw against his new confines as Greyson dragged him back. 

“Such an untrusting creature you are.”

“Because I don’t know what you _want_ from me!” Thomas cried, tears now freely cascading down his cheeks. It was pathetic, he knew it was, but he was just so tired and wanted it to be done already and the drakainian won’t even tell him what was going to happen to him.

Greyson dropped the squirming human onto the ground in front of him, right back in his original position, cornered against his elbow. The drakainian leaned down to nuzzle his nose against his captive’s heaving chest. Thomas was absolutely soaked in the sickly sweet smell of fear, enough to make the giant lightheaded from hunger. But not to eat…

“I want to take you home with me, honey.” he purred.

Thomas cried out again, twisting around in an effort to climb over the gigantic arm again when he was stopped by a sensation pushing against his now exposed back, warm and wet and gliding up his spine to the back of his head. The motion repeated again, and again, and now he could see a thin sheen of liquid on his arms while his tunic clung to his back with each pass. The hot air that accompanied the stroking did little to dry his damp skin and when he tried to shove back the assaulting extremity he instead knocked his arm against something hard and sharp.

Fear and disgust were responsible for his next shriek, trying to put any sort of space between himself and the now apparent tongue that lapped at him. Thomas wriggled and kicked and pushed to no avail, Greyson continuing to take pleasure with each slow lick, even going so far as to purposely swipe the tip of his tongue up his neck to his cheek.

“ _A-ah!_ No, stop!” Thomas tried to yell, each breath intended for a new shout cut off by a noise of distress, “D-don’t-! _Gah!_ ”

“Stop!”

They both did at the intruding newcomer, Thomas taking a moment to catch his breath between whimpers while Greyson directed his attention to the small mob crowding the edge of the sacrificial grounds. He could see many of them freeze once his eyes narrowed at them, clearly not expecting a monstrosity of this caliber to be waiting for them, being armed with only the flimsiest of swords and shields. Two humans were on horseback and covered in leather armor, if one could even consider such rags armor, but not a single one bore any kingdom’s emblem. Thomas’ villagers, he presumed.

“Release the peasant, beast!” one of the men of horseback ordered, his bravery in the presence of a drakainian impressive and foolish, “We shan’t let you claim any more from our lands!”

Greyson blinked at the group, his tail thumping in irritation against the side of the cliff. For a moment it appeared he was actually mulling over their words before looking down at the shivering human in his hold.

“No,” was the simple answer he gave them, resuming his grooming and coaxing out more endearing squeals from Thomas who received a pleased, throaty rumble in return.

To their credit, the villagers were persistent in their demands that the _demi dragon_ obey them, the man’s horse treading closer while others raised their various weapons in preparation for a battle. The poor quality in the ironwork that made up many of the swords and axes was telltale enough that this was hardly as threatening to Greyson as a horde of gnomes, meaning the giant had no qualms with the mob so long as they didn’t try and interfere with what he had claimed as his property. But like most humans, they were tragically thick-skulled and were testing his patience with each impudent command.

“You’ve taken more than enough from our village!” the man decreed, “The reign of terror you have dealt ends today - with your head in town square!”

The other humans cheered and hollered, invigorated by the promise of bloodshed. As if any of them would be able to come close enough to so much as graze his neck! Be it thirty villagers or a thousand knights, humans stood zero chance against him. He reluctantly pulled away from his sweet tasting tribute, raising an eyebrow at their claims while the man blathered on.

“We will not live under your fear any longer! The destruction and misery you have bestowed upon us have come to strike you down in return!” he bellowed, drawing his own sword.

“Destruction? What destruction have I caused?” Greyson asked.

“Don’t try to fool us, beast! The death you leave in your wake shall not be forgotten!”

“You are mistaken if you truly think I would waste my time picking apart your meager dwelling.”

“Enough! Release the peasant - you will not be warned again!”

He growled at that, feeling Thomas shrink against him, worried he would take his aggression out on him instead of the mob of idiots. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the focus to coddle the human in reassurance, too concerned with the gall this rabble had to throw around threats and demands for something he didn’t even do. If they wanted to duel a vicious creature, then they _would_. The drakainian snatched the back of Thomas’s shirt between his teeth and ignored the strangled sob he made as he lifted him away so he could brace both arms against the ground, gently setting his prize safely aside.

“Fine,” he snarled and Thomas watched in terror as he angled his body forward, bracing a knee against the edge of the cliff. The man leading the foolish group looked as if he were about to yell something again, perhaps an order to charge at the beast, but Greyson beat them to the punch when he lunged forward towards the ill prepared ambush. His hand slammed down on the man’s horse, knocking him off when the steed crumpled, leaving him vulnerable for the giant to snap his jaws into his side, ripping away ribs and organs with a single bite before the man could even gurgle. The other hand donned in steel claws dug into a handful of villagers, slicing and puncturing their compacted bodies as they were twisted and contorted between his fingers. 

The humans that had an ounce of self preservation fled back into the woods with terrified cries, the slower ones picked off as he swiped his hand against them, hurling them into thick trees with a sickening crack. His teeth ripped into the struggling forms of the injured, mindful to bite and crush their limbs before tearing into their chest cavities, in one instance digging into some poor bastard’s back to clamp down on their spine, ripping the vertebrae up and out like he was pulling a loose thread.

Thankfully, Thomas didn’t see much of the impromptu massacre because he was running as fucking fast as his fucking legs could fucking carry him.

The guttural screams and unnatural snapping that echoed behind him made his stomach churn, yet he couldn’t feel remorse for a single one of them. That’s what they get for using him as _bait_ for some bloodthirsty monster. Maybe now the dragon’s taste for flesh was quelled and Thomas wouldn’t be worth keeping on the menu. His throat and lungs burned with each gasp that propelled him forward through the dense foliage, sprinting over fallen trees and low-hanging branches to ensure he made it far enough away that he could pass out in relative safety. When the sounds of death faded into the serene melody of nature, he slowed his pace into something more manageable, gasping for air in hopes of finally catching a steady breath.

“ _Sweetheart, where are you~?_ ”

Or maybe not.

Thomas whimpered and tried to will his body into dashing at top speed again, but his wobbling knees and pounding heart only gave him the strength to jog. He stumbled over a collection of protruding roots, slipping down a small hill that was partially covered by a fallen tree. Quickly, he ducked under it for cover as the taunting voice approached, sounding like it was coming from all directions but the lack of footsteps made it difficult to pinpoint where the giant was creeping up from.

He could hear Greyson chuckle and clamped his hands over his mouth to muffle any sob that might escape.

“You can’t hide from me, cutie, you’re _drenched_ in my scent,” he crooned, “I could track you for miles. Not that you’d ever make it that far.”

Silence. Thomas didn’t dare to breathe, not when the birds and insects stayed quiet as well. Everything was too still, feign calmness and the tension eating away at his insides until it threatened to burst from his throat. A heavy force crashed on top of the dead tree sheltering him, wood splintering and nearly caving in on him as the ground trembled from impact.

“ _Boo._ ”

Thomas yelped and scurried away from the tree before it could crush him, immediately being met with the sight of the drakainian crouched in front of him with a hand still pressed into the bent trunk. He grinned with the warmth of a predator and, predictably, Thomas tried to bolt in the opposite direction, not even making it to his feet when Greyson’s mouth descended on him again to yank him by his clothes. Thankfully, he didn’t have to dangle long as he was deposited into an open hand that was stained a deep crimson. A glance showed that the once shining glove was now tarnished in the same copious amounts of viscera and, most upsetting of all, so was his mouth.

The hand holding him brought him closer to the bloody lips, a flash of fangs revealing they, too, were speckled red and Thomas tried to scoot back in the hand as much as the massive fingers allowed which wasn’t very much. In fact they even prodded against his spine to push him forward once more. He tried to duck down instead, pressing himself flat against the other’s palm but was only raised higher, the giant monster determined to get him uncomfortably close to his maw.

He screwed his eyes shut tight when a soft kiss was placed against the side of his head, blood smearing into his hair and against his cheek.

“I think that’s enough excitement for today.” Greyson sighed, standing up to his full height and dropping the hand cradling Thomas closer to his chest, “We’re going to need to clean you off when we get home now.” He poked the human in his side, leaving another red fingerprint against the fabric, “Or I could just _lick_ it off.”

He moved like he was going to bring Thomas to his mouth once more with a teasing smile, laughing at the panicked “ _No!_ ” he received instead and relented to keep the other settled near his chest.

Thomas shook his head and sniffled, wrapping his arms around himself as tight as his exhausted muscles allowed, “Please, p-please, put me down. I-I’ll find you a better sacrifice, _please_.”

Red eyes met brown ones and from his furrowed brow Thomas wasn’t sure if his begging for freedom had finally gotten on his last nerve. Then he blinked and the drakainian’s eyes widened in a clear realization of whatever he had been referring to all day, though the human never really sugarcoated what exactly he wanted Greyson to do.

“Oh. _Oh_ ,” he laughed, “Oh, no, honey, you’re not _my_ sacrifice, I’ve never even been to your shabby little village. I was merely passing through when I saw such a lovely little thing all tied up like a present. I haven’t the faintest idea who you were _actually_ intended for.”

That...no, that couldn’t be right. What else could have been out there to claim him? What was really attacking his home then, sure to come back any day and wreak havoc on his people now that they were down a good number of their strongest men? He was never meant for Greyson, so...so he didn’t _have_ to become some sort of pet, right? 

“L-let me go then!” Thomas said, looking down over the cupped fingers at the dreadful plunge to solid ground, “I’m not yours!”

“Sweetheart, you were mine the minute I wanted you,” he purred, “even if I had to snatch you out of the beast’s mouth myself.”

The human started to struggle again, weak and sloppy. Greyson only needed to press him closer to his chest to restrain his desperate, pointless movements. A thundering heart and even breaths overtook most of Thomas’s thoughts, whining and fidgeting against the tighter hold though he knew it was futile to waste his energy. Instead, he let tears flood his vision once more and felt them silently drip down his cheeks to be wiped away by the other’s thumb.

“Just settle down, honey, I’ve got you,” the drakainian hushed as his wings spread out in preparation to take off. “We’re going to have plenty of _fun_ together.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm bouncing between writing three other multichapter G/t fics that are slowly wrapping up the first chapter, one of them being a highly requested sequel to STMTALCTIS (wow that's a fucking acronym) that the lovely and talented kaliamissywissywoo is helping me write whilst beta-ing my other garbage.
> 
> Unfortunately, it's going to be pretty slow progress until mid December when I'm finally free of the hell we call the American education system, but ya bitch is doing her best I promise ;-;


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